The Long Grass
by I am and I
Summary: She always loved him. It was just that he was always so damn shy. DemyxNaminé Oneshot


_Here's a sort-of sequal to Grasshoppers. I was too lazy to actually write smut, though. Sorry. shrugs If you like that, though, just ask or submit an idea or something and I'll keep it going._

_LOVE!_

_All the standard disclaimers apply._

_((... it's het, btw.))_

_((...WHAT!?))_

* * *

Two weeks ago she sat here in the grass with Axel and Saïx and watched the former eat grasshoppers while the latter watched and got sick. This time it's Xigbar, hanging from a tree by his knees, smoking a cigarette and yawning wide in the lengthening light while she and Demyx lie in the long grass – a screen behind which they hide themselves so eagerly – which the blond plucks at the roots. He chews off the sweet white ends and when he has three, he braids them with quick, tight plaits and lets out disappointed grunts when they break. 

With his body flat to the earth he looks like he could seep into it.

She's slept in his arms with his kisses and he's left delicious bruises on her neck before, but he's shy and bushes at the thought of ever "going further" than that, and she always ends up falling asleep on his narrow chest with a vague sense that he's won again. Now with Xigbar doing his little thing… he's not watching them so she slides up and presses her sherbet lips to his and he doesn't resist her. She can feel the metronome tick under her palm speed up to double time, as usual.

He always gets so excited so quickly, like Axel and his little green bugs – all dead from the heat – but she doesn't mind. He doesn't seem like the type to torture her.

"Why?" he asks quietly, and she shakes her head. "Do you even know what you want, Nami? I don't want to hurt you…"

Sincerity. It's always nice. Well… as much sincerity as their kind can afford.

"I know, but I'm ready, Demyx…"

"How can you know that?"

"I just do…"

"Did Axel put you up to it?"

His sea-bright eyes see all and she sighs, lays herself back down to listen to the melodic tick-tock of his broken, incomplete heart. He puts a big, albeit delicately boned hand through her hair and lets out a long, deep sigh. The metronome slows again, nearly slow enough to be sleeping, but that, she knows, is a much smoother tone. He turns his head and waves an arm through the grass to see if Xigbar is still doing his little thing.

It's sort of surprising when he gently shifts them so she's beneath him, to feel the warm press of his lips on her neck, seeking downward. He meets the neckline of her dress with his tongue and groans softly. It's a sound she's only ever heard this from him once but she knows exactly what it means. She reaches up and tugs down the zipper of his coat to feel the blistering boiling-point heat of his skin beneath the coat's heavy lining. He's sweating, his element seeping from his pores like glass stigmata.

His breathing is deep and steady as he guides her hips and starts a very gentle, smooth rhythm. It's a very humbling moment, because she doesn't know what to do. The hands on his stomach pick up the coordinated whipcord muscles tense with the effort. Their clothes are still on, but god, that undulation feels great and she stifles a moan. He doesn't.

He's breathing ragged, face pressed into the crook of her neck and she's clinging to his straining shoulders, and she knows this isn't getting him any closer to relief. She works at the zipper of his coat and he pulls back.

"No," he gasps softly, turning his head to glance at Xigbar who waves cheerfully. Demyx blanches.

"Watch it, little dude. That could get you dusk'd…" the old gunslinger says teasingly, fluttering down to his feet. He saunters over and plops down close to where Demyx and Naminé are floundering to disentangle themselves. "Anyway, I won't tell this time. Just don't let Saïx catch you two love-birds, yeah?"

Demyx stilts off down the hill, embarrassed, and when Naminé goes to follow, the graying old gunslinger catches her by the arm, holds her back gently.

"Let him go cool off… he's still just a kid too. Needs some time." Xigbar shakes his head knowingly. "He just needs a little more time. Don't give up though. It'll pay off."

Naminé nods quietly.

She can understand that.

-

_He would have been pleased to do the honors himself._

_It had taken him weeks to get her over her initial fears and when finally she allowed him to hold her, to kiss her neck so tenderly, she had stopped him right at the very final point._

"_There's… someone I like," she said softly, "You said I should give it to someone I like…"_

"_I thought you liked me…"_

_He had furrowed his brows and looked down upon her bare frame with nothing short of severe frustration. She had horrible timing. He eased himself off of her and lay down on his side, only to be pushed flat on his back so she could cuddle against his side. He knew she always appreciated how warm he was._

"_I… I saw him in Vexen's lab… he was sick."_

"_He was dead," Axel corrected, "I watched Saïx kiss it better." He gave her one of those not-so-charming jack-o-lantern grins._

"_What's his name?" she asked quietly, bumping her head up onto his bony, bird chest. He shifted nervously. She was touching the scar that used to be a rough, badly stitched patch. _

"_Sorry." She moved her head away, resting against the smoother skin lower down._

"_I'm not sure. He hasn't said much yet," Axel admitted, fingering the hardened ridges of scar-tissue like they ached. "You're better off asking Saïx about that… they seem to be getting along nicely."_

_Naminé frowned against the ash-white skin beneath her face._

"_Don't take it out on me. You've just got a little competition. No sweat. If he's a normal guy he'll be much more apt to jump on you than another guy…" he sniggered, "But then, who was ever normal 'round here?"_

"_Tell me about it," she grumbled._

-

Demyx is basking on his stomach, bronzed back baking under the hot yellow-white sun. His eyes are closed and he's stretched out like a cat, breathing deep the salt-tang air hanging all around them. Naminé stretches herself out carefully next to him and he smiles, wraps a sun-warmed arm around her shoulders.

"Hey."

"Hi."

He sighs softly, and Naminé reaches up to touch the smooth black lines, pinstripe thin running up and down his back like the sides of a huge breaker. They are almost icy in comparison with the rest of his skin, running down his shoulders onto his upper arms and chest, soaking down between the valleys created by his ribs.

"Want to go for a swim?" he asks with a devious little smile, errant fingers slipping under the lining of her little white bathing suit. She smiles softly.

"What about Saïx?"

"He'll not follow. He's not much of a swimmer, tell the truth." Demyx laughs. "Come on."

He jumps up, brushes off his long, black board-shorts and takes off toward the water with Naminé close in tow. Saïx lifts his head and makes to call out a protest, but it's already far too late as both have already plunged into the cool blue water, Demyx dog-paddling slowly enough that Naminé can keep up with him.

"Where are we going?" she calls, and he drifts to a stop, turning to take her into his arms and kiss her gently on the mouth.

"Far out… hold onto my shoulders," he whispers softly, salty lips pressing tight to her ear in a gentle little kiss. He finally releases her and turns. Naminé wraps her arms around his neck and he grasps them gently with a hand, securing them and keeping her from choking him at the same time. "Now hold your breath."

She takes a deep breath with him and he dives down, body arching beneath her in powerful dolphin kicks, silky blond hair tickling her face. She savors the feeling of his warm hand with all the cool water around it, the powerful surging all around her. She presses the tips of her fingers against the pulse-point at his neck, surprised when his heart seems like it is barely even beating at all.

Demyx arches upward and Naminé holds tighter, sucking in a deep breath as soon as they have broken the surface. He glances over his shoulder, watching for a moment before he speaks again.

"Ready?"

"Further?" she asks in surprise.

"A little… you see that little island there?" He points as she presses herself closer to his warm skin. She nods delicately, presses her lips against the back of his neck gently. "Hang on a little longer… it won't take terribly long. Take a breath."

She obeys, and he dives again, all the same familiar feelings, but this time, she can feel the tension in his body; she can feel his excitement spreading in each surge of blood in his veins. Real emotions because they are so close. He surfaces and gently takes her into his arms, carrying her to the rocky yawning maw of a beach cave, lays her down on the powder soft sand and blankets her with his body, no words exchanged. She can feel his heart beating like a scared rabbit's beneath her small palm, can see his ribs dancing beneath his paper-lantern skin as he pants nervously, but most of all she can feel the discomfort of his hips pressed so hard against hers.

For a long moment they say nothing, just wait for the initial jitters to pass before he bends himself to torture her neck, running teeth and tongue and lips over the gentle curve, tasting nothing but salt, working down to gently side the straps of her bathing suit off of her shoulders, pulling back to get an eyeful of small milk-white breasts with their dainty strawberry pink nipples. This is the first time he has ever seen her disrobed in any such way.

She slips the bathing suit down to her hips, just lies there and stares up at him anxiously, wondering why he is scrutinizing her so sharply. Her fears of inadequacy are suddenly assuaged and her sanity stolen away as he bends to suck at a small, supple breast, stimulating the other with a rough, scarred and callused thumb.

He lifts his head and smiles at the look of pure pleasure on her face.

"I think I'm ready…" he whispers.

-

It's morning. Naminé wakes.

She hasn't opened her eyes just yet, but she knows this place. She knows this room. The white bleeding red through her eyelids is the garish and strange luminescence of the walls. The smooth silkiness on her skin is the bed, sheets, blankets. The faint hum is the generators powering the odd machinery that keeps the castle floating like an overlook to view this dead world. The faint cool drafts on her face are the spawn of the hidden air-conditioning vent. The waxy, paint smell is her artwork adorning the walls. The ticking is her little clock on the sill.

The subtle movement against her back is Demyx. He's still fast asleep. This is new, but she knows it. He had carried her home from the beach wrapped in his coat while she feigned sleep against his chest. She had been terribly sore even though he had been so very gentle with her. She had sent a Dusk to take a note to him, and he had come in the night to hold her.

Now he is fast asleep and it is seven thirty in the morning.

She knows very well how dangerous this is for him, how easily her fragile privacy could be breached, and she knows very well how Xemnas would execute Demyx, twisting his already tortured body into that of a Dusk, stealing away his soul and making him nothing but an empty shell.

Even though all of this lurks, here they are.

Demyx stirs a little and Naminé rolls over so that she's facing him, careful not to pin the arm he'd slung over her waist. When she faces him, she realizes that he is, in fact, quite awake. He smiles softly.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," she replies gently, smiling as he kisses the end of her nose gently. He pulls her closer, warm and smooth and soft, broken heart so strangely complete for once. She can feel love flowing out of him like the fountain blood creates spilling from a slaughtered animal's throat. It was something morbid and horrible… terrible to look at and feel, but somehow, she had found a way to accommodate it.

His eyes are nearly black.

Black and cat-wide even in all the bright because at these depths, he doesn't need his eyes. He can't breathe down here. He can't breathe or think or touch, but that doesn't matter because down here he can _feel_. He can feel those last little splinters resonating and it feels so good.

Naminé gently strokes his chest, moves to cradle his head close to her own, smiling as they stare deep into each other's eyes with their foreheads touching. He smiles back, but his eyes dull a little and he returns to his more normal shade.

"I gotta go back…" he whispers softly, "But I'll come back tonight…"

She nods. She knows it's true.

"Drink those potions I brought you, alright? I'll see you later."

He gets up and dresses quickly, comes back to the bed to kiss her on the lips before he takes a portal back to his room. She smiles.

Maybe this time she'll make love to him in their field.


End file.
